


damned if you know (and damned if you don't)

by notavodkashot



Series: Terms and Conditions Apply [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: And not a jury in the world will convict him, Awkward Conversations, Cor is an eternal troll, Gen, Teasing, Titus is going to strangle Cor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 16:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15609906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notavodkashot/pseuds/notavodkashot
Summary: Cor knows something Titus doesn't.He makes sure he knows he doesn't know what he knows.Because Cor.





	damned if you know (and damned if you don't)

“I don’t want to know,” Titus says, after a long moment, squinting suspiciously at Cor and his… Cor-ness, sprawled lazily on the large couch the King keeps in his office precisely for the very purpose of giving Cor somewhere to sprawl lethargically.

He really doesn’t. Want to know, that is. He wants nothing to do with Cor in general, and it’s a well known truth in Titus’ view of the world that wherever Cor goes is the opposite direction of where Titus wants to go. Titus likes order and tidiness and neat, predictable structures that function with clockwork perfection. He likes understanding the cause and consequence of things, and know well in advance to have at least several countermeasures in place. Titus does not play chess, he plays mathematically sound games of blackjack and wins every time because people have an urge to follow their “gut” and their “feelings” instead of their heads.

Cor is… not that.

“That’s good,” Cor drawls, sprawled long as he is on that couch, pale blue fabric contrasting with the black of his uniform - if that could be called a uniform at all - and making him look weirdly ethereal as he lays there, book in one hand, arm folded behind his head. “Because I’m not telling you.”

Objectively, Titus knows Cor is not only his superior officer, but someone who has earned that right. Cor is a monstrous, vicious, feral little shit in a battlefield, the Lucian response to the Niflheim MT armor. Cor cuts through enemy lines like a scythe cutting through ripe wheat. Sometimes he ends battles just by entering them, enemy commanders retreating at the sight of him, like he’s an omen of death they desperately want to avoid.

But Cor is also an asshole, and Titus is only human.

And then there’s the fact Cor is openly, shamelessly,  _bluntly_ fucking the King. 

And the Queen. 

Possibly at the same time.

Titus would rather not know at all.

“Good,” Titus insists, sitting primly in the too small armchair before the King’s desk, back ramrod straight and expression forcefully neutral. “I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

“Yes,” Cor says, placid and lazy in a way that makes the hair stand on end all along the back of Titus’ neck. “I want that in writing, though. That you don’t want to know.” He lowers the book to give Titus a smirk. “Because you’ll know, eventually. And you’ll wish you’d known and then you’ll be mad you didn’t know and that I didn’t tell you.” 

Normal people, Titus theorizes, having never actually met a specimen before but having spent all his life striving to join their ranks, would feel quite entitled to murder Cor for the great sin of being…

Well.

Cor.

Alas, it is not allowed.

He is saved from having to answer that by Regis entering the study, Clarus at his heels. Titus stands, because it’s good and proper to welcome the King, and makes a little bow, in reverence.

Cor stays sprawled right where he is, and merely grins when Regis ambles over and leans in to press his mouth against the corner of his smirk.

Titus stares at the ceiling.

“Now then,” Regis says, as he settles into his chair, and motions Titus and Clarus to sit, like normal, rational human beings, on the armchairs before his desk. 

Cor continues to be sprawled on the couch, and his only concession to the meeting is the fact he’s put the book away. Instead, he’s texting on his phone. 

Titus does not scream.

He wants to, but he doesn’t.

Out loud anyway.

"What new stupid thing has Iedolas done today?” Regis asks, because at this point, after the victory of Accordo in his youth and the recent claim laid on Tenebrae, the war with the Empire is more a farce than a real struggle.

Lucis has magic and power and King who plays something that’s neither chess nor checkers nor blackjack and still somehow manages to be really good at all of those too.

Lucis has Cor too, Titus thinks absently, listening to Clarus account of the latest hostile incursions by the Empire. Cor, who catches his eye while his mind meanders away from the mundane repetition of strategies to secure borders that haven’t been breached in decades, and  _smirks_  at him.

_I know something you don’t._

Titus is going to murder Cor, one day, he’s almost certain. That or… well, something worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out on [DW](https://notavodkashot.dreamwidth.org/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/notavodkashot), if you'd like.


End file.
